


Taking Off

by insignem



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: 1x13, Brief Maria/Michael per the S1 finale, Coda, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22992112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insignem/pseuds/insignem
Summary: "The past twenty-four hours (has it only been a day?) blur and disappear, but a moment from a decade ago won’t fade: a boy, a guitar offered in kindness, a kiss that almost was. A moment that was worth fighting for."A 1x13 coda/fix-it that I originally posted to tumblr after the season one finale last year; with season two upcoming it seemed it was time for this to make its way to AO3.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49





	Taking Off

The various lamps and lights around the Wild Pony give off a certain warmth; they’re shining in the polished wood of the bar top and glimmer in hints on Maria’s necklace and eyes and skin. It’s a gentle light, and it’s peaceful here now, without the people and the noise and smoke of the evening crowd. The heft of the guitar is familiar in his hand as he picks it up and sits and breathes, letting calm wash over him for the first time in what feels like eons.

Kissing Maria was… nice. It was warm and normal and made his insides flutter and the noise in his brain stutter and still, if only for a moment, and it was nice.

Kissing Alex was never nice. Kissing Alex was anything but still. Kissing Alex was a crashing, rushing, roaring thing; it was hurtling down through the atmosphere so violently and so uncontrollably that he couldn’t help but to burn up, to combust with the force of the fiery descent towards an explosive landing.

Why couldn’t he have nice – why couldn’t he have normal – if only for a little while? He lets the fingers of his right hand find the strings; cautiously brings his left to curl loosely around the fret board. He presses his fingers in to form a simple chord, and though his hand shakes with the long-unpracticed gesture, it holds. He draws his breath and holds it for a just a moment, letting the nerves settle in his gut. Then he releases the breath, and his fingers start to move.

Instinct and resurfacing memory take hold, and he relaxes with it, letting the tension drop from his shoulders. He sinks into the music, focused; lets everything else ricocheting inside his brain subside. The past twenty-four hours (has it only been a day?) blur and disappear, but a moment from a decade ago won’t fade: a boy, a guitar offered in kindness, a kiss that almost was. A moment that was worth fighting for.

He shudders and stops. He takes his left hand off the frets and flexes the fingers, clenches again, repeats. He can feel Maria’s warm gaze on him, but now it feels like it’s burning, singeing his skin – or maybe that’s the sting of his guilt and regret, scorching him from the inside out.

He meets her eyes and he sees the sadness in them and he knows that she knows. “I’m sorry,” he croaks. His voice feels strange and the words sting in his throat. He stands, places the guitar back on its stand. “I shouldn’t have-“

“I know,” she cuts him off. “I love him too.”

Michael swallows hard and nods. His eyes, already ringed with red, are welling up again, and he doesn’t want to cry in front of her. “I do want to talk,” he tells her, and means it.

She smiles gently. “We’ll be open.”

“That’s good,” he echoes his earlier words, but they taste rawer this time. She doesn’t smile, but she nods once, then turns back to the counter.

He can feel her watching his back in the mirror as he walks out, leaving nice and normal behind.

*

Alex goddamn Manes is sitting on the stoop of his trailer when he pulls into the junkyard, and he is luminous. That heat flares back, burning in Michael’s stomach, at once painful and vital, as if this man wreathed in leather and sunlight in front of him is essential to his very being.

He feels awkward, suddenly, as he climbs out of his truck. He doesn’t deserve the weight of Alex’s gaze on him, the worry and the care so apparent there.

“This, um-” he stops, not sure how to continue. Alex stands up; starts to speak, but Michael shakes his head quickly. “Alex, did I ever tell you what it was that made me come find you at the museum that day?”

Alex’s confusion is evident, but he shakes his head. “No, we never talked about it. I was sure you were coming to tell me to stay away from you after I’d tried to kiss you in the shed.”

Michael laughs, but even to his ears it sounds more like a sob. “Max had been going on and on about Liz and about how they’d had a moment that felt like it was worth fighting for. And I realized that we’d had that kind of moment, and that I’d be an idiot if I didn’t fight for it.”

He pauses, gathering his courage. Alex’s eyes on him are soft and strong at once; they steady him at the same time as they shake him down to his core. “I know we have a million things we need to talk about. A million painful, awful things to work through. But I think this is something worth fighting for. I think we’re something worth fighting for. And I want to fight for us with you.”

He draws in a jagged breath and meets Alex’s teary eyes with his own; lets the other man draw him closer til their foreheads are nearly pressed together and Alex is nodding against him. “I want to fight for us too. That’s all I want.”

His insides are still burning, but now the flames feel like they’re healing, blazing his fractured parts back together, combusting his past into something that might one day be a future. He cradles Alex’s head in his hands and tugs, bringing their mouths together.

Kissing Alex isn’t nice. It isn’t quiet. And it isn’t a crash landing - it's a takeoff. It's the fire of jet fuel burning up to thrust him skyrocketing into the stars, and though it rips him and rattles him such that his very bones shake with the force of it, it sends him where he belongs.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not so hopeful that this what we'll get when S2 opens, but I am looking forward to what's in store... and I know these two will eventually find their way back. Thanks for reading.


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